A fun show for the family, slightly lacking in magic.
C.S. Lewis’ book has sold 85 million copies in 60 languages and is one of the top ten best-selling books of all time, engrossing readers for over 70 years. We all know the story: the four Pevensie children are sent to live in the country during World War II, where the youngest, Lucy, discovers that a certain wardrobe is a gateway to a magical land called Narnia. It’s a classic tale, packed with theological themes and full of wonder. Here, however, it falls a little flat.
The actors mostly do a good job in a venue too big for the production. Julian Hoult and Christina Tedders have excellent chemistry as Mr and Mrs Beaver, and light up the stage with their arrival. Likewise, Jez Unwin stands out as the warm and familiar fawn Mr Tumnus, equipped with sonorous voice, and Delainey Hayles’ Lucy delivers the more emotional moments with skill.
Other leading cast members struggle to make a strong impact. Samantha Womack’s White Witch is disappointing in her sameness, and the other Pevensie children never seem to rise beyond archetype to do Lewis’ characters justice. Special credit must be given to the gifted ensemble cast of actor-musicians whose folk talents carry several moments of the show and help revivify some of Narnia’s dwindling charm. I particularly enjoyed the klezmer influence in the marching songs of the resistance.
Alongside Benji Bower and Barnaby Race’s music, the play’s spectacle and trickery do most of the heavy lifting. Based on the original production by Sally Cookson, Michael Fentiman’s direction is superbly creative at times—the hand-held steam train, the whirlwind spinning of the wardrobe doors, and the Elphaba-esque ascent of the White Witch are all eye-twinkling moments. Beyond this, the play lacks punch. The other wire-work is clunky and without motivation. The magic tricks are fun but, judging by the audience reaction, fail to reach the expectations of Narnian wonder, and the production seems to skate over sections of key importance. The climax of the play should be a “this is it!” moment, but relies on the effect of its magic trick, and instead left me questioning, “is this it?”
Other choices were just plain odd. Maugrim, the Captain of the White Witch’s Secret Police—a committed and menacing portrayal by Emmanuel Ogunjinmi—looks like he’s been plucked, leather-clad, from an adult store down the road in Soho, and was indeed so scary that a child was escorted out of the auditorium in tears. While Aslan is well-acted and well-manoeuvred, he’s lost in the size of the theatre (unfortunate for a Christ-figure), and the other puppetry is sadly lacklustre. The programme promises a Robin brought to life through “precise timing and sleight of hand” and yet what we get is a poor creature being lassoed around the puppeteer’s head by a string round its neck.
This is the problem with the show: it doesn’t reach expectations. The blame for this lands less on the cast and crew and more on the choice to put this wintry story on in an 1,024-seat venue in the heat of summer. In a more intimate theatre, or back on tour, I can imagine it being a grand success. Here, the show feels like a quick sticking plaster to cover Lloyd Webber’s Cinderella-shaped wounds before The Lehman Trilogy arrives in January. The recently-refurbished theatre needs an audience, and it’s no surprise the programme depicts Womack sat, Elsa-like, on an icy throne, despite this image not being realised in the actual show.
Sure, the production has some wonderful music, some lovely spectacles, and some memorable lessons about magic and faith and freedom. And, as much as I hate to admit it, I’m not a child anymore. But entering Narnia should be a magical, heart-warming experience that makes you feel like a kid again and unfortunately, unlike the real mystical land of Narnia, I wouldn’t go back.